


Fear of Death

by Marlex7



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beth Lives, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marlex7/pseuds/Marlex7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl Dixon has never feared for his own life. Sure, he worries about the others, especially Beth, and does what he can to keep them alive, but he's never placed his own survival as a priority. A change in his circumstances, however, may lead to a change in attitude. Introspective piece from Daryl's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear of Death

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Bite Sized Bits of Fic community on LiveJournal. The prompt was: The Walking Dead, any, first time they were scared. I hope you enjoy.

If there was one thing never in short supply after the dead rose, aside from walkers, it was terror.

Death stared back at every turn. If it wasn't the walkers, or the living, which was often worse, it was disease or the cold or simple common accidents that before might have resulted in a quick trip to the ER but now led to six feet of dirt, and that was if your family or friends had the time to dig.

But for Daryl Dixon, fear never really entered in the equation. Sure, after joining the group--truly joining them and not just cohabiting like he and Meryl were doing at the start--he worried about the others. And that worry led him to protect them, whether by guarding them or training them to protect themselves. Sometimes it helped. Sometimes it wasn’t enough. Most times it wasn’t.

They had lived normal lives before the turn which ill-prepared them for this world. He, on the other hand, had lived a life filled with misery and pain, and he was ready for the hellhole the world had become.

It didn’t take long for Daryl to realize that for him, about himself, fear never entered the equation. It wasn’t that he had a death wish, or thought himself immune to the dangers, he just knew that if he went down, then that was it. He wasn’t special. He could be replaced. And besides, there wasn’t some cosmic plan. He wasn’t a chess piece being moved around the board. Life was simply a series of moments, and sooner or later, you’d find yourself at your last one. He’d fight like hell to stay alive, because he was a Dixon and he wasn’t going to go down without a fight, but he wasn’t going to be scared about the possibility either.

And that held true, no matter how close the scrape, through the farm and the prison and beyond, when he and Beth were on their own. After the mortuary, while he was running long past his last ounce of strength after the car with the cross, he felt fear for Beth, for what had happened to her and what would happen next. But still that fear was never for himself. He would fight to stay alive, if only to find Beth and somehow make it up to her for losing her when he was supposed to be protecting her.

Then came the hospital and she was gone for good. For Daryl, there was no emotions left after that, except anger and rage. He knew there was no cosmic plan, but he’d been wrong before, and if there was such a thing, he vowed to find its author and drive a bolt through his fucking head. He supposed Beth wouldn’t have liked those thoughts, but she was dead and his thoughts were his alone.

At Alexandria, there were more people and thus more people to be worried about. He went on runs, both for supplies and new people, willing as always to put his life on the line because, in a part of his heart long scabbed over, he knew his life wasn’t worth much in the end.

Then Beth was back. Harder, more skilled, but the physical scars faded and the mental ones did as well, albeit slower. And just as miraculous as her return was, they somehow picked up where they’d left off at the mortuary and became simply them. He’d never had that before and knew he would fight like hell to keep her safe this time.

He was worried about her and scared of losing her again, but she was strong, just like he realized during their night together at the moonshine shack. She could take care of herself, and while he would always worry, they were a team, and relied on each other just as they protected each other.

Then came the news that they were to become a trio. So many fears entered his mind then, remembering all too vividly how badly these things could go. But then he saw her smile and pushed those fears aside, matching her smile and maybe even the tears.

It was a few days later that they went on a quick run, him, Beth, Maggie and Glenn. He hadn’t wanted her to come, but one look at her expression and his protests died on his lips.

He was currently in a small store, working alone while they others scouted the one next door. The building was empty and most picked through, but he’d noticed a sign hanging crookedly from the ceiling advertising baby items, so he told the others to move on and he’d catch up.

There he perused the dusty shelves, scattered with trinkets and useless mementos until he found himself looking at a tiny blanket made up of pastel colored squares, complete with a little bit of fringe on two of the sides. He didn’t know why it attracted him, but he absently rubbed the material between his fingers, thinking of Beth and the child growing inside her.

He’d just picked up the blanket and put it into the leather bag at his side when he heard a noise. A walker they’d somehow missed was almost on him and he twisted from its grasp, but he bumped hard against the opposite shelf and her heard something give way, sending it toppling in his direction.

He felt the impact resonate through his body, followed a moment later by a second as the falling shelving slammed him into the display he’d found the blanket on, pinning him in place as the walker reoriented itself and began shuffling toward him once again.

Daryl struggled, but his arms were trapped by his sides, preventing him from reaching his crossbow or even brandish his knife. He saw the approaching corpse, its teeth clacking between soft moans as it neared.

This was it, Daryl realized. His final moment was upon him. Cosmic plan or no cosmic plan, his part in this story was over. And he thought of Beth. She’d mourn him, he knew. But she had Maggie and Glenn, and the others would watch over her and their baby, making sure she survived without him.

But the idea of her raising their child alone sent anger through him. Not at her, but again at the unseen hand, whether it was there or not, that seemed bent on keeping him from being there, from seeing his child, from staying with Beth.

And that anger morphed into fear. And he knew he feared his impending death, for he wanted nothing more than to stay alive, not simply to be a protector, but to stay with Beth, who had brought him more happiness than he ever thought he deserved. And to see his child grow and become the man or woman who could survive this world but also see its beauty, a perfect combination of himself and Beth.

The walker was now close enough he could feel its breath on the skin of his neck. _I don’t want to die_ , Daryl thought, struggling in vain to free himself from the shelving. _I don’t want to die!_

The walker leaned in, mouth agape like the door to hell itself. Then its head jerked back, a bolt impaling it to the metal shelf behind.

“Daryl!” Beth screamed, holstering her crossbow as she rushed to him. “Are you okay? You’re not bit, are you?”

“I’m fine,” Daryl growled. “Just fucking stupid is all. Must of missed the fucker there and then the shelf fell on me. You saved my ass.”

Then Maggie and Glenn were there, and they helped him shift the shelving so he could slide out. As soon as he was free, he found himself enveloped by Beth, who was peppering his face with kisses. He pulled her mouth to his and the kisses evolved into a single embrace that lingered.

He was alive, he was telling her, just as he was telling himself. He still felt that pit of fear in his core, and knew that he would fight even harder than before to stay alive for Beth, and their child, and perhaps selfishly, for himself as well.

“I love you,” he told her once the kiss ended.

“I love you too,” she answered.


End file.
